Guilliman led the vast fleet of the Ultramarines Legion out of its current formation and drove toward Macragge at full speed.
The engine flares of hundreds of ships joined into a dazzling ribbon of light in the void, piercing the dim dust clouds of the 500 Worlds of Ultramar.
After their departure, the formations of the three Legions originally gathered at the Mandeville Point looked considerably thinner.
The Dark Angels and the Blood Angels chose to pursue the traitor fleets caught between disintegration and regrouping.
On the bridge of the Unyielding Truth, Lion El'Jonson stood before the broad observation window, his gaze passing through its layered glass to the flames and wreckage in the distant void.
The Primarch of the Dark Angels wore dark armor, ancient knightly heraldry engraved upon his pauldrons. His fingers rested lightly on the window ledge, their pads pressed against the cold metal as he felt every faint tremor coming from beyond the hull.
Those tremors came from the shock waves of long-range bombardment, from ships' keels breaking apart, from a battle of annihilation unfolding hundreds of light-years away.
The officers on the bridge reported the state of the battle in low voices.
Lion El'Jonson listened without interrupting.
His gaze remained fixed on the burning star cluster, orange-red fireballs and drifting fragments reflected in his pupils.
He noticed the Blood Angels fleet pinning down a group of Iron Hands warships on the flank as they tried to escape the battlefield, while the Dark Angels held back the enemy's main force advancing along the front.
The situation remained under control, yet he sensed something wrong drawing closer.
Just then, a communications signal suddenly broke into the Dark Angels Legion's command channel.
There had been no prior coordination, no normal access procedure. The communications request simply appeared directly